I heard from my sister of a rumour that J.K. Rowling had wanted to pair Fred and Hermione together and whether that rumour is true or not, I had started to consider this pairing. And yes! They do make sense! Yet, I wanted to explore the dynamics of Ron and Hermione's relationship post DH.

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Hermione clutched the old photograph taken of Dumbledore's Army to her chest. It had fallen out of one of the pages of her old History of Magic textbooks when she was clearing the attic to make space for her grandchildren's old toys. The figures of the photograph waved at her from the floor and she spotted a certain pair of ginger twins that made her heart ache. They had placed a glob of bright pink slime on Ron's head and were laughing at it instead of looking at the camera.

She held the picture with her gnarled hands, stroking the photograph with a wrinkled finger almost lovingly. A passerby would have thought Hermione was being nostalgic but that was not so. In truth, she was desperately trying to recall the warm freckled face beneath her palm that had evaded her memories this past half century.

Hermione Granger stood between the platforms nine and ten, scrunching her eyebrows together, trying to figure out how to get onto the train platform of nine and three-quarters. If she had not mistaken, the fat little boy and his grandmother had simply disappeared into the wall dividing both platforms nine and ten.

"Nine and three-quarters," she mumbled to herself. "Does that mean I have to walk closer to the right?"

"I really doubt that would make a difference, sweetie." Her father spoke up and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Your trolley is almost the breadth of the wall."

"Well then, I suppose I'll just build a momentum and see where it takes me." Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at the smiling faces of her parents.

Her mother nodded and sniffed. She had hugged her daughter countless times the entire morning and yet, at this particular point of parting, she wanted to hold her only daughter in an embrace that would never end. Hermione gave her parents a big hug and the three huddled together and whispered their love for one another.

"I'll see you at Christmas!" Hermione whispered and turned around before she could witness her mother cry.

Placing both hands at the handle of the trolley, she pushed and picked up speed. Just as she was about to collide with the wall, it disappeared and she emerged onto a different train platform where a large crimson train was towering over the various robed figures on the platform. The words "Hogwarts Express" were attached to the front of the train on a golden plaque. Hermione knew at once that her fears that had plagued her throughout the entire summer were unwarranted. Here she was, at the start of a magical adventure.

When her family had opened the door to admit a strange woman in a pointed hat and emerald green robes, she had thought it was just another horrible prank her schoolmates were playing on her. But she evaluated the situation like a detective from one of her beloved Nancy Drew stories and decided that it was impossible for her schoolmates to bother to go to such extents to trick the nerdy outcast. And if a prank was out of the question, this school—Hogwarts had to be real, along with its claims that magic was a reality. The woman—who said her name was Professor McGonagall—had explained about Hogwarts and the existence of a magical community. Hermione, determined not to be left behind in this new school and new environment, decided that she must do everything she must to ensure that she excelled in this new talent. She would show Mandy Goodwill and her cronies that she was better than them. She was a witch!

Just then, someone had slammed into her, causing her to fall over her trolley and trunk and landing in a painful heap on the floor. The person in question had fallen right on top of her. What a great way to start her exciting new journey, she thought sullenly. She pushed the figure off her and got up briskly despite the throbbing in her elbow and chest. She glared at the dazed red head teenager with a twinkle of mischief dancing in his cerulean eyes, who was presently peering at her over the ruined trolley.

"Next time, watch where you are going!" She spluttered as she heaved her trunk and hauled it to the nearest empty compartment. She did not turn to see another red head with the same eyes laughing and helping his brother up. The first boy turned to give Hermione an inquisitive look, he had slipped something into her pockets and he hoped that this bushy haired girl with fiery brown eyes would take his prank in her stride.

"All right Fred?" George Weasley asked as he helped his brother untangle himself from the broken trolley.

"All right George." He rubbed his bum and grinned up at his twin. "Let's go see what Lee is up to!"

"Hermione love," called a voice from below. Hermione dropped the photograph, having been startled from her reverie. "We've got to go to Harry's for Christmas dinner in half and hour."

"Coming!" She responded with all the enthusiasm she could muster. She slipped the photograph into her pocket and slowly made her way down the rickety ladder.

Ron stood there holding the ladder steady. Ron, her wonderful loving husband, the pillar of strength, how could she have forgotten this kind, affectionate man! She took his hand as she reached the bottom step and stepped off promptly, straightening her skirt and blouse. He gazed at her, tenderly brushing a stray curl from her face. The couple stood there and said nothing.

"Have you been crying?" He asked after a moment, scrutinizing her face. "You know they won't truly be gone just because they've grown up and all—" He continued to say. But Hermione stopped him by pulling out the old photograph. He glanced at it for a second and was silent. After all these years, Ronald Weasley was still stunned for words when he was confronted with the loss after the recent Wizarding War.

"Well, we'd better get ready now." Hermione muttered, stowing the photograph into her pocket and heading across the hallway to her bedroom, leaving her husband staring after her, fears and insecurities of the past rising up from beneath the cobwebs of his mind.